Silent Night
by Miriamimus
Summary: In response to TheOriginalHufflepuff's challenge. 12 fics, each with a different prompt, different character, taking place on Christmas Eve. Victoire, Alicia, Tonks, Lily, Minerva, Lavender, Rose, Narcissa, Andromeda, Hermione, Ginny & Molly. Please R
1. Little Child

**AN**: In response to The Original Hufflepuff's 12 fics of Christmas challenge. There isn't really a theme, but each fic will centre around a different girl or woman from Harry Potter (why not guys? I don't actually know). Each fic will be called something from a carol, or a Christmas quote of some sort. Now, to find some lyrics I can fit with Firewhisky... :)

First: Victoire...**

* * *

**

**Little Child**

_(Mary was that Mother Mild,_

_Jesus Christ, her Little Child)_

**Prompt: Victory**

When she was born, she was weak.

The well meaning aunts and godmothers and everyone else looked into the cradle and sighed. Such a pity, they thought, that such a sweet beauty would be wasted.

But her parents did not give up. "Never," they decided. "Never will we give her up. Not after everything. We're not losing her too."

She was in hospital every second day, for more tests, more potions. The Healers were puzzled. It was as if the child simply did not want to survive. But when she opened those icy eyes so much like her mothers, they could see that she was clinging on with every fibre of her being.

Christmas was coming. The child was two months old, and still as delicate as she had been when she was two minutes old.

On Christmas Eve, however, she was visited.

First came her mother, Fleur, who looked into the cradle with her tragic beauty.

"My darling," she said. "Ma chérie. I have a gift for you." She smiled and produced a little golden hairbrush. "They always told me I was beautiful," she whispered. "And you are too. This is for you. Because you are going to grow up, and have the most magnificent head of hair anyone has ever seen. And every night you will brush it with this. And you will be beautiful on the inside too." Her mother left and curled back into the empty bed, her husband barely slept these nights.

But then he entered his daughter's room.

"Hey," Bill said softly. "I have a present for you." He lay down a cuddly toy beside her. "A few years ago," he explained, "I was attacked by a man who turned into a wolf. He left me scarred. But now he is dead, and the people who are werewolves are being accepted in the world. There is one boy whose father was a werewolf, and one of the best people I know. You will grow up and be friends with that boy, and you will remember he had his history too, every time you see this toy, this teddy wolf. I'm sorry, it's a bad joke, I'm sorry I couldn't give you more."

He left and gently, so as not to wake his slumbering wife, he climbed into bed.

From below, his younger brothers and sister sneaked in to the little girl's room.

First, came Charlie, her father's best friend. "Hey gorgeous," he said. "I'm going to give you something and you have to take care of it, alright?" He put a scale of a dragon through the bars. "I live far away," he said. "Which is why I don't see you a lot. But one day, you will grow up and you will travel, and you will come and see me and the creature this belongs to."

Next, Percy climbed the stairs. Below her cover, he tucked a little book. "I once left my family behind," he told her. "That was a mistake. You need your family, little girl. You will grow up though, to love them and be independent, clever and intelligent, and support your own family with your brains, and you will remember far back to that night when your uncle gave you your first book."

The one eared boy went next. Very slowly, George tied a friendship bracelet around her tiny wrist. "I used to have a twin brother," he says quietly. "And now he's gone. I want you to help him and every other lost sibling live on. He was the best brother I could wish for. And you will grow up to be the best sister anyone could wish for, and you will give your little brother or sister this bracelet and remember my twin." He left.

Next, came the youngest boy. He smiled shyly at the cot. "Hello," Ron said. "I'm going to give you a present." He put down a little silver locket. "I'm in love," he said unashamed. "And once, a golden locket tried to tell me I wasn't. But now I am. And you will grow up, and fall in love, and this locket will tell you that you are, and you will never listen to the doubts."

Finally, came the youngest child, the sister. "Hey sweetie," Ginny greeted the second Weasley girl. "If I give you a present, do you promise to use it?" She imagined the baby nodding. "Well, this is it." She passed a scrapbook in. "Sorry," she apologises. "I'm broke this Christmas. This is a book of all the things your family have done. We're all famous in our way, did you know that? And when you grow up, you'll be famous too, for being clever and pretty and loving."

The next morning, Fleur, tired and weepy because this may be her daughter's only Christmas, entered the room to hear faint, but strong, rhythmic breathing. Then the baby opened her eyes and smiled, and cooed.

Her mother laughed out loud, looking at the presents that surrounded her daughter, then ran into her own bedroom to give her husband the best Christmas present of all.

And the baby is finally named, after all this time, of chewing over things that didn't quite sound right. But this one, with its French sound and simple meaning, is perfect.

Her life, after all, will be a victory.


	2. Through The Cloven Skies

**AN**Next up Alicia... the quote is (obviously) related to Quidditch...and sorry it isn't exactly COMPLETELY Christmas orientated...but it's still quite festive...**

* * *

**

**Through the Cloven Skies**

_(Still through the cloven skies they come,_

_With peaceful wings unfurled)_

**Prompt: Quaffle**

The first gift he gave to her, after all, was a Quaffle. She's just returning the favour, she thinks as he looks bewildered at the round package.

"What is it Lissa dear?" He asks, puzzled.

"You will find out tomorrow," she says, leading him away from the tree by the hand and gently tugging him down the stairs to help her lock up the shop, tidy away the fireworks, restock the Skiving Snackboxes.

She thought back to when he first gave her that gift.

It was Second Year, and they both tried out for the Quidditch team. They had known each other for a year now, but they were still shy.

She had sat nervously in the stands, watching as his big brother called names. She was sure that the Twins would get a place, with their brother as captain.

She sat with her friend, the strong one, the brave one, who was trying out for the same position as her. "Don't worry," Angelina had said. "There's two spaces. We're the best here. I'll bet we get on the team."

They were good and she knew it. They practised all the time whenever they were bored. Last year when they were not allowed their own broomsticks they had filched a pair from the store rooms and practised. They had watched the team of older students battling it out in the sky every evening.

Then, Angelina's name was called. She wished her luck and watched as she flew up to tackle the Keeper.

The red haired boy sitting a few spaces down had slid up to join her, leaving his twin chatting to a friend.

"What position are you trying out for?" She asked him.

"Beater," George had said. "My brothers say I have to."

"You'll definitely be on the team," Alicia gave an uncharacteristic scowl. "Your brother's captain."

"He didn't let Perce in," he pointed out. "Although, then again, Perce's an awful flyer. Really awful."

She smiled. "And you aren't?"

"No, no I'm not. I'm quite good actually. Both of us are."

He looked at her. "You and Angelia are trying out for Chaser?"

"How did you know?"

"Please. Charlie said he saw you flying last year. Pretty good for First years, he said."

Alicia grinned. "Do you think we'll get in?" she asked.

"If you're anything like Angie," he said, pointing at her. Angelina flew beautifully.

They had talked through most of the trials, Angelina now sitting on the other side with the other "maybes."

"Spinnet, Alicia," Charlie had called. She didn't hear him, she was so deep in conversation. "Spinnet, Alicia," he said again. She didn't answer and he crossed her name off the list.

Then came George's turn to try out. "Hey!" said Alicia. "You didn't call my name!" she said to Charlie, hurrying down the steps after George.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Alicia Spinnet."

He checked the list. "I did call you. Sorry, but if you missed it..."

"Charlie," said George, taking the Quaffle from under his brother's arm. "Watch this. Fly Alicia!"

She barely had time to kick off before the Quaffle was in the air. She caught it, fifty feet up, and heard cheers below her as she sped towards the golden hoops.

She descended to the earth again and Charlie said "You can fly," astounded.

"What made you think I couldn't?"

"Well, that's a maybe," he said. "George, off you go."

But before George was in the air he whispered in her ear. "Don't worry, you'll find some way of repaying me."

And now, as the fairy lights on their tree twinkled, she smiles as he talks loudly from the kitchen, loud enough for his own hearing. He sits beside her and hands her a plate. She nuzzles her head into his neck as he looks at the round parcel. She's amazed that he can't see the red leather underneath her wrapping.

"What is it?" he asks again, ever hopeful.

"That would ruin the surprise," she says.

"Not even a hint?" he asks, kissing the fair crown of her head. "Please?"

"It's..." she chews the idea of giving him a clue.

"Please Lissa?" he asks again.

"It's..." she thinks about it some more.

"One hint can't kill you!" he exclaims. "Spit it out!"

"It's a repayment." she says, and waits for the memory to kick in.


	3. As His Wife

**AN: **Tonks. I did have a rather, ahem, dirtier chapter planned (look, what do you expect when you give Firewhisky as a prompt? Let's just say it took place when Remus and Sirius were 15, involved a bottle of the stuff, Narcissa Malfoy, an event Sirius swears wasn't a prank, the Black's Christmas party, and a memory which will scar Tonks for life involving her aunt...well, I'll leave you to work out the details) But I decided it was a little TOO inconsistent with the rest...so here's some fluff...well, sort of fluff**

* * *

**

**As His Wife**

_And Joseph awoke from his sleep and did as the angel of the Lord commanded him, and took Mary as his wife. _-Matthew 1:24 (well, I thought it was appropriate-can you draw the parallels?!)

**Prompt: Firewhisky**

It took him long enough, she thought to herself.

It took him long enough to return, it took him long enough to take her back completely.

He returned back in October, a week after full moon. With his face turned down, he said "I'm not that man. I'm not leaving you to look after this monster by yourself. I'll help. But that's all I can promise."

For nearly two months, two months, they lived like that. He slept in the box room, no matter how many times she tried to persuade him that she could morph into someone smaller and she would fit better. He said, eyes down, it would not be good for the baby. She couldn't count the number of times she had asked, no, begged him to come back to her bed, but he simply answered "I told you Tonks, no." And as the new year, and the new addition, approached, she began to lose all hope.

She stared at the tree. She had decorated it herself, without his help. At the bottom was a small pile of presents. From her mother, Bill and Fleur, the other Weasleys, Kingsley. But nothing from Remus. Nothing to Remus. For this tree, he did not exist.

She refused to cry. Bored, with him gone, she had done her eye makeup perfectly this morning. Instead of allowing tears, she went to the larder. On the bottom shelf was the old bottle of golden liquid. She grabbed a glass and poured it. She downed it in one gulp, then sat back on the sofa. She waited a few moments, staring into space.

"Merry Christmas Dora," she said and poured herself another glass. Inside her stomach, the child kicked. "Don't you start." she said to it. "I'm not interested."

She drained the second glass and shut her eyes.

How long she sat there she didn't know, but when she opened her eyes again everything was slightly blurred. Perhaps she could blur away the world, she thought. She shakily poured another glass and brought it to her lips.

"No." said a firm voice, and she felt a grip on her wrist. "Have you any idea how bad that stuff is for the child?"

"Remus?" she asked, unable to believe her shaken vision.

"Yes." he said.

"What do you care?" she asked. "What do you care about the child, about me, about any of it? Hmm? You couldn't give a-"

"You're my family, of course I care." he said.

"Oh, don't start this again." she said. "Every time you get my hopes up and then you dash them again. I know what you're going to say Remus. How you care, but you can't do more than that. Well you can do more, you can sod off. I don't want a husband who's not able to love me, not even for the sake of his unborn child."

"Dora," he sighed, removed the bottle and glass from her hands and put his fingers in their place. "That's just it. I do love you. It's taken a while for me to admit to it, but it's true. Marrying you was the right thing to do. I know it was. I know that now."

"You're lying to stop me drinking."

"I swear on the grave of Dumbledore this is the truth."

"I still think you're lying."

He kissed her, gently, for the first time in nearly six months.

"Who have you been talking to?" she asked, but really, she's lost already. In the sound of his soft, thoughtful voice, the uneven touch of his hands, the taste of his lips.

"My inner self, my conscience, my alter ego," he said. "I don't know. Somebody. Somebody who says that wolves mate for life. Did you know that?"

"Do Remus Lupins mate for life?" she asked.

"Well, do Dora Tonks's?" he asked.

She bit her lip. "I'd say, they think about it first. After all, they wouldn't like ending up married to someone they didn't love. So now, for tonight, you are temporarily forgiven. We can talk in the morning when I'm not so drunk and I'm sure I'm not just dreaming this."

But somewhere deep down, she knows that her mate for life and not the Firewhisky, will keep her warm from now on.

* * *

Please take an average of, ooh 27 seconds to leave me a review, and I will make you a gingerbread house (honestly, it's on The Afternoon Show 3.00). Next, Lily! 


	4. Full Well Grown

**AN:** You can really tell that my life is full of excitement and I'm not one of those people that spends all their time writing fanfic can't you? LOL...I'm just taking a well-deserved break from the big bad world...so yeah...next up Minerva...I think...you see I wrote one for her then realised it didn't fit the prompt, but I didn't want to give it up so I'm just trying to fit the prompt in...

So, apparently it takes like, 32.576826843891223 seconds to write a review :P. Well, I was close enough.

Enjoy!

**

* * *

Full Well Grown**

_(The Holly and the Ivy,_

_Now both are Full Well Grown)-_well, "The Lily and the Petunia...)

**Prompt: Photograph**

Lily was bored.  
She had already written to James today, and to Sirius, and to Remus, although the last two hadn't been sent, as she only had one owl.

Perhaps coming home for Christmas was a mistake. Her parents, of course, were as doting as ever, but her sister, also home, was cruel and cold towards her.

She began digging through old boxes, things she hadn't looked at since she went to school, nearly seven years ago now. Old cards she had made, and old pictures she had drawn, old bandanas and caps, old dolls, old hairclips and hair bands, and at the very bottom, an old photograph.

She stared at it, at her ten year old self and her thirteen year old sister. They were sitting on the swings, where they always used to play. Lily looked at the little girl she had been. She was small, but not skinny, her red hair was wind-blown and a little frizzy, and even out of the photograph her green eyes looked back, like a mirror. Beside her sat Petunia, fully formed for her age, with dark hair cut into a fringe and Labrador eyes looking out. She was smiling at whoever was taking the photo, Lily did not remember who.

"Lily," her father called.

She stood up and went down stairs, photograph in hand.

"Look what I found," she said handing it to her mother and sitting down to the Christmas Eve meal of baked trout (her mother loved fish.)

"Isn't that sweet?" her mother said. "Look Henry,"

Henry smiled. "I remember taking this."

"Oh, so it was you who took it then?" Lily asked. "I didn't know."

Petunia came into the kitchen, looking haughty. Her father smiled.

"Look what Lily found." he tossed it to her. Petunia spared the photo one glance before setting it face down on the kitchen counter. Lily saw her parents exchange glances over the table. She sighed and began to eat.

She was focused on her food when there was a tap on the window. And another.

She looked up. "It's Quicksilver!" she said, rushing over and unlatching the window. Her owl nearly fell into the sink. "Poor thing, it's been flying all day."

"Get it away from me!" shrieked Petunia.

"Shush, Petunia, it's just an owl." said her mother.

"It's unnatural, that's what it is." snapped Petunia.

"It's from James!" said Lily, unable to stop smiling.

Seeing that the arrival of the bird was upsetting her elder daughter, Sarah Evans said "Lily, please, leave the letter until after dinner. Can the owl wait outside?"

"Sure, he'll be fine. I'll let you in in a minute sweetie."

"Who's James?" her father asked, unable to stop himself.

Lily blushed deeply. "He's, well, he's, we...I..."

"Ah," said Sarah. "Lily's in love." Then, as affectionate mothers do, she burst into tears.

"How horrible," said Petunia. "In love with a-a freak? How utterly revolting!"

"He's not a freak, he's sweet and loving and caring and brave and handsome."

"Besides, I thought you were in love with that Snape creature."

"No! And he's not a creature Petunia! He's a person."

"But you've gone off him haven't you?" Petunia sneered. "Or perhaps, it's the other way round."

Lily felt tears prick to her eyes. "Petunia I don't talk about you that way."

"Yes you do, to all your little freak friends."

Petunia's expression was the bitterest Lily had ever seen. "You didn't look at that photo did you? You were beautiful Tuney, dammit, you were gorgeous! You were always the person I wanted to be when I grew up. Always!"

"Not when you went to that home for the incurably insane you didn't."

"No, because you were horrible and bitter and nasty to me. Petunia, our lives have changed so much! We're grown-up now, and we're worse off than we were in that picture! We've lost each other somewhere along the line! I've lost my sister, my best friend! Do you think that if I had the chance I wouldn't go back to when that picture was taken and refuse to go to Hogwarts? Do you not think that I would give up James, and the others, Sirius, Remus and Peter, and Mary, and Gryffindor, and being Head Girl, and magic and everything else, just to have you back? Back to the way things were."

Petunia looked at her sister with utter contempt and said "No, you wouldn't." her words dripping with hatred.

Then she picked up her car keys off the worktop and her coat off the chair.

"Merry Christmas, Mum, Dad," and she left.

* * *

Please excuse the awful grammar in that last speech by Lily...but I'm sure you put commas before your "ands" when you're screaming at your sister too...

And now, I command you to review!!!


	5. Healing in His Wings

**AN: **I know, I know, I have no life. But I just explained all this didn't I? Anyway, people, I need your opinion. So I was watching Doctor Who, and I thouht Bairns must be the same guy who plays Riddle in CoS, because he looked familiar. And then, I was watching DW confidential and found out it was Harry Lloyd (aka Will Scarlett)-this is the part where Miriamimus and any other, ahem, "sane" girl swooned. And THEN, just when I thought that I would have to write to the producers and tell them that this is the Riddle (HANDSOME Tom Riddle) they want...when I found out about a million other people had the same idea and had put it up on the web. cries. But I hope it works...or maybe it won't...after all, it wouldn't do for me to do a Bellatrix and fall in love with the Dark Lord!!!

So, that was your wisdom for the day. Just thought you'd like to know! And tell me, do you not think Harry Lloyd would make a good Riddle?

So yeah, here's your Minerva. And just to tell you, the scene is purely, PURELY about their friendship. Don't think I'm implying something.

**

* * *

Healing in His Wings**

_(Hark the Herald Angels Sing)_

**Prompt: Phoenix**

Forty years.

It had been their tradition for forty years now, she thought, giving the gargoyle the password.

She remembered the first year. She was only twenty-five, she remembered, and not bad looking. Her hair had been completely black, like ink, and tendrils were escaping the bun that she still had not quite mastered. She was wearing her best robes which (she remembered with a blush) were of the brightest scarlet, with little flakes of snow still clinging to them.

When she had entered, her old Transfiguration had looked up and smiled.

"Ah, Minerva," Dumbledore had said. "So glad you've come."

He was sitting in the Headmaster's chair, the same glasses as always perched upon his nose, bright blue eyes looking out to the most talented student he had ever taught (excepting, of course, her rival Tom Riddle, but Dumbledore tried not to think about him unless it was absolutely necessary). Behind him the huge red bird, which she had always been slightly afraid of, sat.

"Professor Dumbledore sir," she said bowing her head. "Fawkes," she acknowledged the phoenix.

"Come now, I hardly think it necessary to call me Professor. After all, that is your title too. Albus is fine. I believe Fawkes really does not mind what he is called, but he shall correct me if I am wrong."

She had smiled and looked round the room. In his frame, Armando Dippet snored. "Congratulations Pro- Albus, on your appointment."

"And you on yours," he said. "I remember you were always particularly skilled in Transfiguration. And that tabby cat..." he shook his head. "I saw your name on the Registry. Very well done indeed."

"Thank you sir," she said. "I mean, Albus."

"I'm sorry to call you out on such a night as this. I'm sure you had plans with your family."

"Only with my sister. Athene will survive without me I'm sure."

"Ah. She is married now I believe?" Dumbledore began pacing round the room, searching for something.

"Yes s-Albus. Very happily so."

"Well, we shall leave her to it. May I tempt you?" he asked waving a bottle of oak-matured mead.

"Certainly, thank you." she said.

"To both our new positions then," Dumbledore said, and they clinked glasses.

"It's a pity poor Armando died at such a time. Then again, I suppose it was kinder that way."

"Scrofungulus, what a way to go." Minerva shook her head. She looked at the portrait. "At least he was painted beforehand."

"Yes." mused Dumbledore. "Yes." Then he grinned. "I trust you will settle in well Minerva."

"It's as if I've never left." she said happily. "What have you been doing these past seven years?"

"Oh, this and that. The training for the tabby cat, of course, took some time. I was working for a while in The Hog's Head, as I'm sure Aberforth told you."

"Ah yes, so he did. Seemed to think it was a lot of, what was the term he used? 'Brains and beauty' wasted in that place."

Minerva blushed. "Not wasted. But the smell does really get to you. I don't mind goats in general, but..."

"I completely understand. It was exactly the same way at home." Dumbledore smiled. Minerva thought, how did this phoenix of a man end up with a goat as a brother? "And then?"

"Well, I travelled. I was working in Rome for a while, then Athens. I spent a little time in Cairo as well."

"Ah yes. At the Gringott's project?"

"Only for a short time. Mostly I was translating for the libraries there."

"Ah. Of course with your excellent grasp on languages. I seem to remember you received an 'O' in Ancient Runes."

"Yes."

"As a matter of fact, now I think of it, you received an 'O' in all of your NEWTs. Gracious, I am losing my touch."

"I don't think so s- Albus."

"No. Perhaps we should check yearly." Minerva was puzzled but he went on. "Yes. That would be a good idea. Well Minerva," he raised his glass again. "To our new tradition! A bottle of mead every Christmas Eve. You shall come and check on Fawkes and I. Well, mostly just myself. Fawkes doesn't need much. Are we agreed?"

And now as she opened the heavy door, he was sitting there, her glasses perched on the end of his crooked nose, and (apart from his hand), with the red bird she had come to love looking old and bedraggled beside him, he could have been the same person that greeted her forty years before.

"Ah Minerva. So glad you've come."

For all his modesty he had not lost his touch yet, and Minerva hoped her dearest friend would remain, unchanging and as enduring as his phoenix for many more Christmas Eves.


	6. All I Want

**AN:** Some people asked for something like Victoire, others wanted fluff, and my alter ego (Meredith) told me to write this instead. If you have ever read anything else I've written, you'll know about my weird fetish with Lavender Brown...

This has a lot of me in it. So I'm Hermione/Luna/Sirius, but maybe that's Lavender. Anyway, some of this is purely her, but some of it's me. I even gave her one of my family's super special Christmas traditions...

Fluff next! I promise! I've actually written it (although I actually did go out today! I went to Avoca for breakfast! I have a life!)**

* * *

**

**All I Want**

_(This was a hard one, so yes, it's a Mariah Carey quote!)_

**Prompt: Mirror**

Lavender looks in the mirror.

Her parents always allowed her to open one present on Christmas Eve. This year she had chosen the long flat one wrapped in white and pink tissue paper.

"You were always saying how you wanted a full length mirror for your room." her mother said anxiously.

Lavender didn't have the heart to contradict her face, which was pleading "Please like it. Please be vain and silly like you always were." So she had hugged her mother tightly and thanked her and hung it up in her room.

Her father calls her down for dinner and she took the stairs to at a time. Violet Brown stands unpacking the Chinese takeaway, her light brown hair so like her daughter's (but with grey streaks) windswept from outside. It had always been a family tradition to eat Chinese tonight.

"You're the duck right?" she asks her daughter. Lavender nods.

"Got all your presents sent off then Lav?" asks her father. "I see Dell is back."

"Yup," says Lavender. "She came back from the twin's last night. That was all I think. Parvati and Padma, Hermione, Seamus, Ron..." her face pales. "No." she says quietly and bangs her head on the table.

"What is it sweetie?" her mother asks.

"I forgot to send Ron something. No way."

"Well, I'm sure you can send it after Christmas, he won't mind," Violet says.

"She can't send it after Christmas!" her father says. "Imagine the poor boy when he realises she forgot him and not the others."

Lavender very nearly blushes. Her parents don't know the status of her relationship with Ron.

She eats as much as she can and makes an excuse to go upstairs while her parents tune in to the Celestina Warbeck annual broadcast. She rummages through her desk and drawers and finds no last minute gift to give Ron.

In frustration she shrieks and throws her little jewellery box down. She closes her eyes as she hears the smash. This is unbelievable. She frowns at it. She'll have to ask Dad to fix it.

But the broken box reveals a gold chain she did not remember purchasing. She tugs at it to reveal heavy gold letters spelling out "My Sweetheart." She vaguely remembers Parvati giving it to her as a Valentine's day joke in Third Year, both their lives having been so void of romance.

It's better than nothing.

She wraps it quickly in brown paper and writes a note accompanying it saying "Happy Christmas Ron. Can't wait to see you again. Love you more than anything, Lavender." Dell, angry at being sent out again, pecks at her fingers before flying off.

Lavender sits on her bed and looked at her reflection in the new mirror. The reflection of her feet really. In pristine pink Converse. She is only wearing them to please her mother really. They're too clean, too white, but Mum never liked dirty shoes.

Above the too-clean boots are legwarmers, grey and sparkling, over brightly striped socks that come to her mid-thigh. At home, Lavender isn't afraid of wearing what she wants. The house gets cold and though her favourite haunt is near the radiator, she can't spend all her time there. Underneath the socks are thick black tights, and above a short pale denim skirt. She's wearing one black and one pink tank top, a baggy blue V-neck and a grey cardigan. She didn't do her make-up this morning, her dark eyes shine out of a pale face, surrounded by slightly waving light brown hair that turns gold in the light. She looks up to meet her reflection's eyes and tugs at the hair with slender fingers.

Lavender knows that she isn't the same, slightly chubby, pale child she was when she first went to Hogwarts. Unlike her non-magical mother feared, the place hasn't stopped her in time. She sees nothing of her mother in the face looking out at her. She is her own person.

But who is that? Ron Weasley's girlfriend, not important like Hermione, who practically got a column devoted to her in Witch-Weekly a few years back. Not Ron's girlfriend. Not the girl who broke Hermione's heart, the one who's best friend hasn't spoken to her in weeks. No one cares about the girl who's too frightened to tell her mother she doesn't want to be _that girl_ anymore. She doesn't want to be the one put down as being dumb, as being a problem, as being untalented. Just for once, Lavender would like to be, well, someone. The one that people will laugh with, not at. The one people will come to for advice. The one people will love.

But she's not that person. She's the one who will always be in the background, because she'll always be overshadowed. She's the one who Ron will eventually discard for Hermione and they'll just laugh at her. She's the one that will evaporate into nothingness.

Because despite being a Gryffindor, she's too scared to tell her mother that the best Christmas present of all is something she'll have to find for herself.


	7. Wondering Love

**AN: **Seven chapters in how many days? I know, you're thinking "She seriously needs to get a life." I know, I'm starting to think so too...

Anyway, I give the names at the end, but you should be able to guess who they are before that...this was a suggestion given to me by one of you...ooh, who could it be????**

* * *

**

**Wondering Love**

_(While mortals sleep the angels keep their watch of wondering love- this is one of my favourite quotes from a Christmas carol EVER)._

**Prompt:Kiss**

"Hey." says a familiar voice.

She looks up. A year before, she would have said "Sod off Slytherin," without a second thought. But she hesitates, thinking over the past months. He has been civil, verging on friendly sometimes since September, and now she thinks about it, she can't remember throwing an insult at him since October.

This realisation in mind she smiles and says "Hi." He pulls out the chair beside her and sits down.

"Um, what are you reading?" he asks.

She lifts the book slightly. "Just researching Kappas for that essay he gave us for over Christmas."

"Brilliant." He give her a nervous smile and says "Do you mind if I borrow it after you? Only I can't find any references to them."

"That's weird. You're probably looking in the wrong place." She looks round. "Did you look in the Care of Magical Creatures section?"

"No." he rolls his eyes. "I didn't think anyone would want to care for them."

"Well, there are whole volumes there." She stands up. She knows the Hogwarts library better than almost anyone. "Come on, I'll show you."

He dutifully follows. She isn't as surprised as she thought she would be. He's grown on her, she guesses.

"Here." she says, stopping at a shelf and crouching down. "At the bottom. Kappa Care: Watching Over Your Water Demons. Looking after Lucy: My account of looking after a Kappa. Catching Kappas: A Beginner's Guide."

"No one but Hagrid could take those seriously." he jokes.

"No one but Hagrid does take them seriously. But they've got good information. There's a nice one, When Kappas Go Bad." She hands it to him. "That will have all the spells and everything in it."

"Thanks," he says.

"So what are you doing, doing all your work on Christmas Eve?" she asks.

"The same as you I guess. I was bored."

They're back at her table. "Do you mind if I come over here?" he asks.

"Sure," She answers. In a moment he is back with his schoolbag, unscrewing the lid of his ink. It's emerald green, hers is azure blue.

"Has your brother gone home for Christmas then?" he asks after her Second Year brother.

"Yes. But I really didn't want to face another year at Uncle Percy's. I don't mind them really. I just wanted some quiet this year. What about Diana?"

"At home as well. You think Uncle Percy's is bad? Try the Black family Christmas party."

"Sounds cheerful." She frowns. "Actually, I think Teddy mentioned it."

"An old tradition. Dad says it's good that the Lestranges are in Azkaban, seeing Great Aunt Bella drunk is not a good experience."

She snorts with laughter. "So it's a real party? You don't sit there and talk about killing Muggle-borns?"

"We're not as bad as the last generation. I mean, the fact that Teddy comes."

Her eyes widen. "That's funny. He's more closely related to you than he is to me."

"Second cousin. I think. What relation is he to you?"

"Well, none really."

They work talking and in silence. She watches as his hand glides across his parchment, his writing elegant, but not fancy, practical, slightly slanting.

After a while, they are both done. She rolls her parchment up. "That's all my work done." she says. "So I can enjoy tomorrow in peace and not have it hanging over me."

They pack up their things. She piles the library books. "I'll just take these back."

She's blushing slightly, he is giving her an odd look.

He follows her to the shelves. She bends down to replace the books on Kappas and they slide out of her arms. He hurries over to help.

"It's alright, really." she says as he picks them up. Their hands meet on "When Kappas Go Bad." She quickly pulls hers away and looks up. She's sure her face must be as red as her hair by now.

But if it is, it doesn't stop him. In a moment, his lips are on hers and her eyes are shut. Her hand reaches over the book again to meet his. He tastes strangely sweet, in a way, fresh and green.

She breaks away first and looks at his wide eyed. He grins.

"I'll see you at lunch tomorrow then. Don't worry about my present, you just gave it to me." he says, his eyes dancing. Scorpius Malfoy hands her the book and scampers away, leaving Rose Weasley utterly bewildered.

* * *

At the beginning, the original line is "Sod off Malfoy" but I didn't really want to say who they were...so just imagine that was what I said... 


	8. A Beautiful Sight

**AN:** So, I got so wrapped up in the idea of a Black Family Christmas Party that I did two chapters on that sort of theme, both set apart by thirty years. This takes place in 1970, the next in 2000.

So yes: it's Narcissa (aka. Cissy, also starring Andy, Bella, Sirry and Reg! You're right Huffie, it IS more fun that way, hope you don't mind...)**

* * *

**

**A Beautiful Sight**

_(Winter Wonderland, cheesy I know...)_

**Prompt: Dance**

The drawing room of The Black Family Home was a smoky place thought Narcissa making her way through the crowd searching for her sisters. There was Uncle Orion, red faced. There was his wife, the woman herself, Walburga, chatting to Narcissa's mother, there was old Mrs. Longbottom, oh, Lucius Malfoy was here, she didn't know that. She quickly checked her hair. And the MacMillans, Narcissa thought they wouldn't be invited after last year.

"Andy?" she asked. "Andy are you here? Bella?" As much as she enjoyed the company of all the elder wizards who smiled at the beautiful girl who long white blonde hair, she yearned for the company of people her own age.

She found her sisters in one of the corners, sitting with their little cousins. They, like her, were wearing green dress robes like hers to please Aunt Walburga, with silver jewellery. Andromeda, who had recently come of age grinned as the boys described their feats in defeating the dragon they found in the attic.

"That's not true Sirius," moaned Regulus. "I cut its head off not you."

"Be quiet Reg," he said to his little brother. "And then we both dragged it downstairs. It's in the cellar, would you like to see?"

"I'm alright, thanks Sirry," Andromeda smiled. "Hey Cissy. Where were you?"

"Agh, I got cornered by Bartemius Crouch. Asking me all about how Hogwarts is teaching us about foreign wizards today. Apparently he sent a letter to Dumbledore about it."

"Sounds like fun." Andromeda smiled.

Bellatrix frowned at her middle sister. "He is a very respected wizard, Narcissa should be honoured."

"Oh, only because you have a crush on him." said Andromeda waving her away. Regulus tittered.

Bellatrix turned away and watched the crowds, searching for someone.

"Bella's had her eye on Lucius all night, I don't think she's looked at Rodolphus all night, not once." Andromeda whispered to Narcissa. "But she doesn't stand a chance, he's practically been dogging you."

"Don't be silly Andy," said Narcissa. "I'm far too young for him."

Andromeda raised her eyebrows. "Don't be ridiculous. It'd be a 'good match' as Mother would say."

"And you?" Narcissa sniggered. "What about your own good match?"

"Don't tease me so Cissy," said Andromeda. Her romance with Ted Tonks was well known inside Hogwarts walls, but was kept completely silent outside.

Sirius, annoyed that the older people were ignoring him said "I'm going to Hogwarts next year." he said.

Narcissa, who had always loved children of any sort, even arrogant little things like Sirius asked "What house will you be in?" waiting for the answer he always gave.

"I want to be in Gryffindor," said Sirius.

"Gryffindor?" She had had the discussion with her little cousin ever since she was his age. "Why not Slytherin?"

But before he could answer a song was struck up on the gramophone and there was a hand held out to her. "May I have this dance?" Lucius asked.

Narcissa nodded and put her translucent hand in his. It felt strange, she thought, to have the handsome nineteen year old's hand on the small of her back, his hand in hers as they moved over the floor. She knew the similes people would use. "Like angels, so beautiful, and such graceful dancers", "Like liquid silver they are, with that hair." Already she was sure she could hear the murmurs of people thinking "a good match", as Andromeda had said.

Lucius was speaking. "You're looking charming tonight," he said and very slowly lifted his hand to touch the little emerald tiara set in her hair.

"It's Bella's," she said blushing, and cursing her pale skin. Lucius smiled.

"You have your OWLs this year?" he asked.

"Yes." She rolled her eyes. "I'm dreading it."

"It's not that bad. I just kept my eye on the prize and I did alright."

"Better than alright I'm sure." Narcissa played the flattery card.

"No. Just alright." He gave her a quick grin and twirled her around. "Is Slughorn still head of Slytherin?"

"Isn't he always?" Narcissa rolled her eyes. "And he keeps inviting me and Andy to dinner."

"And your eldest sister? Is she working?"

"No. Sitting at home being pampered." Narcissa smiled. "Don't know how she stands it. What about you?"

"Dabbling a little in the Ministry. Meeting pretty girls. Not a lot." He smiled.

They continued to make small talk and he skilfully led her round the room. The song ended and he dropped her by her sisters, Bellatrix looking sullen and Andromeda beaming. He kissed her hand gently and looked deep into her eyes.

"That was most enjoyable, Narcissa. I look forward to our next meeting. Merry Christmas."

And they nodded. Yes, that was certainly a good match, and not just in looks.


	9. Of Gold

**AN:** Haha, I have a dedication. the last chapter, and this one, to EllaBella13 because she reviews a lot and loves Narcissa apparently as much as I love Lavender, which must be a lot.

Enjoy people! This is Andromeda, Black Christmas Party 2000.**

* * *

**

**Of gold**

_(From angels bending near the earth to touch their harps of gold)_

**Prompt: Heart**

Andromeda had not been able to believe her eyes when she received the invitation. It was on cream paper, written in gold ink. _You are cordially invited to the Annual Black Family Christmas Party._ This had to be a joke. The last person by the name of Black had died five years ago. But it would seem that Narcissa was serious, others had received these invitations too, even the Weasleys, every pure blood witch or wizard and their families.

Andromeda decided that, even if no one else would, she would go.

On Christmas Eve (of course the Black Christmas party was always on Christmas Eve) she pulled a set of bottle green dress robes (it was tradition really, to wear green) and managed to force Teddy into something half respectable. She arranged her brown hair going grey into curls, it was short now, not passing her shoulder and dabbed some make-up on. At half past seven (the invitation said seven but she didn't want to be the first to arrive), she lifted the toddler and passed through the fireplace to the long halls and thick carpets of Malfoy Manor.

She arrived in the drawing room and found the house strangely quiet. She had not been here before, save once, at her younger sister's wedding she and Ted had come to look through the bars of the gate.

It did not sound like a house where a party was being held. Outside in the grounds, a white peacock lay camouflaged against the brilliant dusting of snow over the lawns. Somewhere a clock ticked.

"Cissy?" she called. "Cissy? Are you here?"

There was silence. "Teddy, just stay here, a moment."

She went through the adjoining doors into the dining room where a long mahogany table sat, and two rows of chairs. The places were set with silver and ivory cutlery, the candles were lit, but there was no sign of anyone. "Narcissa?" she called again. "Lucius? Draco?" There was no answer.

She went out into the hall, lushly decorated. The ticking of the grandfather clock became louder. "Cissy?" she called. "Anybody?" She remained silent for a moment, then heard a faint sniff. She looked up and down the hall. There, under the stairs, a pair of dainty feet showed. Andromeda ran over.

"Cissy, what's wrong?" Her sister sat there, her make up running, her hair coming undone, with her arms folded. She was wearing deep purple, an obvious attempt to show neutrality.

"I thought," she gulped. "If I showed I wanted them, they would come." she said.

"Oh, Cissy." Andromeda hugged her sister. Narcissa cried on her shoulder.

"I...I don't know what to do Andy. Everyone, _everyone_ hates me."

"They don't hate you Cissy. They don't hate you. Where are Lucius and Draco?"

Narcissa shrugged. "They went out this morning and didn't come back. If they don't hate me, where are they then?"

"They don't hate you, it's just... when the war finished Cissy, a lot of people were hurt. Injuries to the heart take a long time to heal Ciss, I should know. When I lost Ted...and Dora, killed by our own sister."

"I know, I know but...it wasn't me Andy, it wasn't me! I heard his heart beat, I could have told the truth. But I didn't, believe me I didn't Andy, I saved them all."

"I believe you." she said simply. She stood up. "Come now, aren't you going to come and meet my grandson?"

"He came with you?" said Narcissa accepting her hand.

"He didn't want to miss the party." Andromeda smiled. "Come now, don't look at me like that."

"There's no party Andy. How can there be when there are no guests?"

"There are two guests. Three of us. A party for three. Much less bother. Come now, I was so looking forward to seeing your house."

Narcissa smiled. "Really?"

"Really," she squeezed her sister's hand. "I'm not about to break your heart Cissy. I'm not that person."

Narcissa blinked hard. "You really mean that?"

"We've had our differences," Andromeda said. "But you're still my little sister. Still the girl who was embarrassed when Lucius Malfoy asked her to dance."

Narcissa grinned. "I'm glad you're here Andy," she said.

"So am I," said Andromeda, looking around the huge, beautiful and incredibly lonely house. "Neither of us should have to spend Christmas alone."

She went into the drawing room. "Teddy, this is your great aunt Narcissa."

"Great Aunt! That makes me sound awful!"

Teddy looked around. "Where party?" he asked in broken English.

Andromeda smiled. "Right here."

She smiled as her little sister bent down to talk to Teddy. She hadn't changed. She still had a heart, a heart Andromeda could see, that although it had been corrupted and torn apart, hastily sewn together again and nearly been left behind, beneath the grime of war and the dust of the years, and the everlasting stains Tom Riddle had left, it was still gold, and would hopefully remain that way forever.

* * *

An alternate ending was the twins coming down the chimney and saying "Sorry we're late!" and then I realised, Fred's dead! NNOO!

On that note of forgetting that people tend to die tragically young (and also become great aunts aged 45) in the "Fairly Random World of JK Rowling" (quoted from the Leaky cauldron Pottercast Interview with her) I would like to apologise, in Ch. 7 I referred to Bellatrix as being in Azkaban. I'm sorry. She's dead. I know, I'm sorry for your loss. She was killed by Molly Weasley (née Prewett) in an epic duel. Yes, I have read the books people! Sorry again.


	10. Precious Load

**AN: **Sorry it's a little late...it's a bit longer than the others as well, and I'm not so sure you'll like it. But **_I_** do, so deal with it!

I also want a blue eyed collie called Merlin :(...I have wanted one for about 3 years...all I have is a little spaniel and a lab cross who has an IQ of about 2.

So here we go: Hermione (I had her planned for Patronus from the beginning, I just wasn't sure what I was going to do with it...)

**

* * *

Precious Load**

_(Little Donkey- I know it's a bit dodgy, considering the amount of Christmas quotes to do with pregnant women!)_

**Prompt: Patronus**

Perhaps this wasn't such a bad idea she thought.

At first she had laughed and said "Don't be ridiculous, it's freezing outside! You want to go to the beach?"

He shrugged. "I haven't been there in ages. Mum and Dad always used to take us for a treat."

She smiled and remembered by to when she was little, her family used to go to the hills on Stephen's Day to work off the food from the day before. Every family has its little quirks, she thought, this will be ours.

Our family quirk. She smiled even wider.

So she wrapped up in her trench coat, a Kenyan scarf around her neck, her grey woollen hat and the stripy fingerless gloves she refused to replace even if the cuffs were wearing. She remembered back, way back, in Third Year, she had been wearing those gloves when he first took her hand. It had only been to see if she was cold, and she hadn't really liked him at the time, but somehow the gloves were symbolic to her, even if she wouldn't tell him why.

They walked hand in gloved hand down the beach and let the dog run ahead of them.

It wasn't a dog really, she supposed. But he had been so happy that morning a few days ago when she told him that he had cast it and it had stayed around, gambolling and smiling, jumping at them, running after sticks they threw. It hadn't disappeared. The beach was deserted, so it was alright to let the silver being run free, while there wasn't anyone to see it.

The last of the weak afternoon sunlight made the stones in the sand glisten, blue and purple and red. The dog scampered ahead, picking its way through them, running down to the surf and yelping when the cold hit it. She smiled.

"We should name it," she said.

He looked stunned. "We've got months to do that!"

She laughed. "I mean the dog!" He looked relieved. "I thought you meant-"

"I know what you meant," she said quietly.

He laughed shakily. "So, the dog..." he smiled. "What do you think?"

She shrugged. "I always wanted a blue-eyed collie called Merlin. I thought it was a pretty name for a dog."

"But a terrier?" he asked. "A little thing that can't run very fast. With grey eyes, grey everything."

"I used to have a teacher called Mrs Gray," she joked.

"Sterling silver." he said. "Sterling."

"It makes me feel rich. We could call him Euro, or dollar, or pound. Or any other currencies. Old ones. Shilling."

"So it's a he?" he asked.

"Yes. We should call him Frank. Like the old French franc. I like the idea of a silver shilling though."

"Why not Sickle?" he said.

"That would be boring. Why can't he be our silver shilling?"

"He's mine!" he protested. "Although, Shilling." He tasted the word. "It's a bit odd, but it's nice, in a weird way. My silver Shilling." He shook his head. "People will think we're mad."

She grinned and squeezed his hand. "Then it will be our little secret."

He smiled. "And the other?"

He looked at her stomach. "He needs a good name, with five brothers ahead of me I never really stood a chance at one."

"Don't be silly. I like your name."

"They could have picked Edward or Matthew or, anything, and they chose Ronald. It's just so, I don't know, cheesy. "

He rolled his eyes. "What about you?"

"My parents liked Shakespeare. Ever heard of A Winter's Tale?"

"No, but I've heard of Shakespeare."

"Well, that's where my name comes from. I never really liked it, it's so presumptuous."

"I like it." he said. She smiled. He continued "Let's give it a name it will like."

"I hate calling it 'it'."

"Okay, let's give him a name he will like." Ron said.

"What makes you think it's a boy?"

"Please, it's a Weasley, of course it's going to be a boy!"

They were down at the water's edge, she flicked water at him. He flicked it back and caught her in a swooping embrace. They both landed on the shore laughing.

Watching the tide ebb away she said "I always liked the idea of naming her after a flower."

"So it's a her now?"

"Lily," she said. "I always liked lilies. Although of course, Harry and Ginny have bagged that name already, if their new one is a girl."

They saw Muggles coming down to the beach. He reluctantly let the Patronus go.

"I think we should get a dog for Christmas," he said sadly.

"A blue eyed collie. I think she'd like that even more than a name," Hermione smiled. "It can be her guardian. Her own Patronus."

Ron smiled and put a hand on her stomach. "He says he thinks that's a good idea."

"And Shilling wouldn't mind?"

"We're a family now." Ron said. "We have to guard each other."

And Hermione thought that with him around, her daughter would never be unguarded.


	11. No Room

**AN: **You know, Surprise, which is possibly the most open of the prompts, is the one I'm having the most trouble with. I would start a poll, but it's too much bother...so, could you review and tell me who you'd like me to do it on? My mind at the moment is somewhere in between Luna and Molly, but if you're into more abstract choices, I also (for some reason I can't remember,) have down Fleur, Sybil or Angelina...please tell me, or if you have any other ideas, I'm always open, and I'll give you a Terry's Chocolate Orange! (I sincerely hope some kind person is leaving one in my stocking...:D) And if I don't update between now and then, NOLLAIG SHONA DUIT, JOYEUX NOEL, MERRY CHRISTMAS, FELIZ NAVIDAD (I don't speak Spanish much, that's probably wrong) !!!!!!

So here it is. Ginny is _not_ having a good Christmas. I meant to carry this on to Percay's reappearance, but then I realised I had promised myself I would just do Christmas Eve so... and that's tomorrow oh yeah!!!!!!**

* * *

**

**No Room**

_(No room in the inn of course!)_

**Prompt: "All Was Well" **

All is not well in the Weasley household.

First of all, they're fit to bursting. Lucky that Percy was not there and Charlie is stuck in Romania, but even so, Ginny did not want to share a room with Fleur. Secondly, she wouldn't see Dean for weeks. Thirdly, Hermione isn't coming so Phlegm would be the only girl around. Well, her and Mum. Fourthly, Remus is coming, which she wouldn't mind so much if he and Tonks weren't so depressed lately.

She had said so in several of her letters home. _I'm not coming home for Christmas if she's in my room_. she said. _You can't make me share a room with her_. Molly, had of course, used the emotional blackmail card and brought her daughter home anyway.

Ginny drags her bags (she had left her trunk in school) into the room. It smells...well, not that bad actually. Like expensive perfume. But there are clothes everywhere, on Ginny's bed lay this...well actually, this gorgeous set of indigo dress robes.

Then she comes in and stops. "Oh," she says. "You were not supposed to see." She quickly wraps them up. "I was seeing if they would be the right size for you. They are beautiful no?"

"Yeah," says Ginny. But just because perhaps Fleur had gone through the trouble of buying these for her does _not_ mean that Ginny is under any obligation to like her.

When she's downstairs her mum asks her to decorate the living room. Decorate it? Fine then. She grabs reams of paper and several cans of paint and goes into the chicken coop where most of the family do their projects. She dips her hands and feet in the paint and smears them over the paper, covering up any white parts. Then she piles up the paper and cuts it into strips, grabs the Spellotape and sets to work. Eventually, when she hangs them up, her mum asks if she was a little too enthusiastic. Ginny rolls her eyes. At least she wasn't the one to put a gnome at the top of the Christmas tree. But that does _not_ mean that she's proud of herself.

Then Mum decides it will be fun to listen to the Warbeck broadcast. As if Ginny hasn't heard it enough times already. The same songs warbled over the same old dodgy wireless. Oh, get a _life_. The twins seem to think so too, and they have a brand new pack of Exploding Snap cards. She's always been good at that game. She beats them both and laughs to see their faces covered in the soot. But just because her brother's make her laugh does _not_ mean that she's enjoying herself.

Remus is sitting on the other side of the rug looking into the depths of the fire. Well, at least Ginny hasn't made as much of a mess of her life as he has. Is she the only one that's worked it out? No, Mum knows. And Phlegm listened in to someone's conversation so she knows. But really, why would you inflict that upon yourself? Him and Tonks are lonelier than ever without each other.

But just because she appreciates how easy her life is does _not _mean that she's happy.

And what about Bill and Phlegm? Well, they were better off when they hadn't met really, Ginny thinks. I mean, now no one will go near them because they're so wrapped up in each other. At least Ginny isn't that bad. But she won't see Dean for ages now so that does _not_ make it better.

No, Ginny knows this is not going to be a good Christmas. Especially if she has to share a room with old Phlegm. She bets she snores. Really loudly. Bill is not going to be happy when he'll have to sleep with her every night.

Finally, after choking down another glass of grotesque eggnog, she's allowed to go to bed. She plans to sleep for the majority of the next two weeks. Maybe that will make it go faster. She certainly hopes so. She really hates Christmas Eve at the moment. She bets she'll have no trouble getting to sleep tonight. She'll sleep like a log.

She's going upstairs to her room and her closest brother is making his way up to the attic. She scowls as she turns to let them pass. His friend, the one with the bright cat's eyes and the messy black hair stops and throws a careless grin at her. "Having fun Ginny?" he asks.

She scowls even more. "I get to share a room with Phlegm. Do you think I'm having fun?"

He gives another smile and nods in the direction of her brother. "I know someone who wouldn't mind sharing a room with Fleur."

She makes a face. "Oh boys can be so disgusting. She snores. Really loudly."

"Well, then, I pity you. And I completely understand. I mean, look who I have to share with."

"Hey!" her brother's voice says. The boy lets out one of his soft laughs.

"He's better than Phlegm. Anything's better than Phlegm."

The boy rolls his eyes. "Of course it is." Then he does something he's never, ever done before. He puts his hand on the back of her head, brings it forward reaches over and kisses the crown. It's strangely comforting, an almost (but not quite) brotherly gesture, something Dean would never do.

"Sweet dreams," he says and makes his way up the stairs.

"You too," she calls after him, and she can see her brother's suspicious silhouette standing on the next landing, wondering what could be going on down there.

Ginny goes into her room and sits on her bed. After all, she always quite liked Christmas. And Fleur's trying her best. And making those paper chains was quite fun. And no one likes Celestina Warbeck, she grins as she gets changed. And Remus and Tonks will just have to sort out their own problems, as will Bill and Fleur. And maybe she can survive for a while without Dean. In fact, it'll be good to spend some time apart, she thinks as she lies down. After all, she thinks as she turns around and shuts her eyes. There are compensations.

And as the clock struck midnight, somewhere in her dreams of sleighs and reindeer and bells, Ginny decided all was well.


	12. Happy Golden Days

**AN: **The grand finale!!! The quote is referring to the days in the photos. I've had a lot of fun writing this fic...

So thank you SOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSO SSOOO much for reading.

Wishing you all a very, very happy Christmas. Keep each other safe, keep faith.

Love, xx (and if you love me, you'll review)

So here it is...Molly...

**

* * *

Happy Golden Days**

_(Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas)_

**Prompt: Surprise**

She looked through all the old albums every Christmas.

He had first kissed her at Christmas. She couldn't decide which of them had been more embarrassed. Really, she had gone over to lend him a quill, they had bumped into each other and someone somewhere made mistletoe appear above them. That first kiss must have been the clumsiest, least passionate and most cringing show of affection ever in human history she smiled. But they had got better. Oh, those long walks in the grounds and coming back to the Fat Lady at four in the morning. There was that time when Pringle caught them. She had spent that night with Arthur in the common room (helping him to heal his back of course.

Her parents had not approved when she came out of Hogwarts and told them their plans. Her mother had said that any children they had would surely turn out orange all over. Her father had said that over his dead body would his little girl marry someone as poor as him. Her brothers of course, had encouraged it, said it would be good to rebel a little.

A little? Okay, a lot.

But no matter how much she begged they would not agree. So that Christmas Eve, after a short four months, Gideon had lent her his broom, Fabian had made her possessions weightless and they sent their little sister off on her fairytale to meet her handsome prince. She had always been an awful flyer but somehow she had got there. They were married in a little Muggle church as soon as they could be. It wasn't the wedding she had dreamed of, no sparkly white dress and only enough champagne for two, but it was the right groom.

How many after that that rolled into each other. In nearly half of the photos, she was pregnant. In one there was just the one red haired boy, then two, then three, then five then six. Then a little girl, all smiles. She smiled at the first picture of her whole family, standing, the girl in her mother's arms and the youngest boy in his father's while the others stood around grinning. She smiles and flicks back a page. That Christmas was the first one they had lived knowing they weren't going to be attacked. Forwards she went. Fourteen Christmases safe. In each photo there was a different combination of people. In some the background was Romanian or Egyptian. But always, always, her husband stood next to her and smiled. Always.

Through the years, as he got balder and she got plumper, the fiery orange of their hair became diluted, there was still the same smile. Still slightly nervous, still completely loving, still puzzled, as if he's fallen into this life and isn't sure how he got there, but he's happy to stay for a while. With each picture, as Bill gets older and his hair grows out, as Charlie grows more reckless and Percy more responsible, as the twins find new ways of tormenting her, as Ron finds his place in the world and Ginny grows more beautiful with every day, she's just happy that they've been so lucky.

Who would've thought that a first kiss under mistletoe left by a mischievous house elf could have led to this?

It isn't her dream home. The converted sty, with its many extensions, muddy back step, chicken coop and gnome infested garden weren't what she wanted. But there's something about the Burrow, as they call it. Something that she knows every visitor feels at home with. Sometimes, in a rare moment of vanity, she thinks it's herself, her cooking, her cleaning, her motherly personality. She was always born to be a hostess, ever since she got her first tea set when she was three. Born to be a mother.  
So much has happened since then though. They were in danger for three more years. She lets a tear drop at the thought of Fred, lying in the ground, a joke written above his head. That's where the boys are now, she thinks. With Fred. Having a party probably. It's been five years since then, she shudders. Five years since they so nearly lost everything, and still did in a way. Six years since Bill was married. Two years since Ginny married, three years since Ron settled into the still not fulfilled engagement. Two years and a half since George got over his twin and popped the question to Alicia. Four years since Charlie and Percy threw their double wedding celebrations to help soften the sorrow of Fred. One year since her first grandchildren were born. Three in one year! What a year it was. Three granddaughters, already. The curse, as she used to call it, has been broken.

She smiles and shuts the album. It's been a long, long time since she first kissed him under the mistletoe. She stretches and goes to the oven. If she wants everything to be ready for tomorrow she'll have to do the vegetables now.

There's a bang coming from the chicken coop. She runs in. He's standing there with suit on his face, wand in hand.

"Oh," he says. "Could you not look? It was supposed to be a surprise. Although," he looks behind him. "I suppose it's not going to happen now." She looks at the mangled mess behind him. "It was a camera," he explains. "I was just trying to improve the picture quality. I think I put in too much though and it's kind of gone..."

"Bad." she says. "Don't worry. The old camera is fine."

"I know. I just want to give you...something." he says.

She grins.

Even after all these years, all the Christmases, with his nervous smile and puzzled expression, even after everything she can still see the boy she kissed under the mistletoe, the man she eloped with, the father that brought up her children, even still, he can still surprise her.


End file.
